The Enemy of My Enemy is My Ally
by Miss Kayl
Summary: BtVS-HP-SG1-CSI-L&O-Charmed----
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay people—my plot bunnies would not let this idea go, so here it is. It is my valiant attempt at an uber-crossover—and I do mean uber-crossover. Hopefully, I can keep it making sense prays and not screw up canon in any of the 'verses, 'cause then I'd have OFU and PPC people after me and I wouldn't like that, 'specially 'cause I'm a supporter of both

Seasons are the year after Buffy ended. (Uh…2003-2004)

All of them go AU to an extent (what that extent it is, we can only guess)

Spoilers up to whatever season we're at in the different 'verses.

Disclaimer: I own none of the people you recognize and possibly some that you don't, depending on your favorite fandoms. Buffy and Angel belong to Joss and Mutant Enemy, Charmed belong to Spelling, the Law and Order trio belong to Dick Wolf (I think), and the CSI pair belong to…uh…whoever they belong to. Other disclaimers will appear as other fandoms appear.

**The Enemy of my Enemy is my Ally**

**Chapter One**

**2:34 AM Wednesday, January 7, Las Vegas**

Gil Grissom looked at his partner for the night, Catherine Willows, as they walked up to the crime scene. They were at the edge of a forest, a few yards from the road. Grissom remarked, "This is just the dump site. No blood."

Catherine nodded her agreement, looking around. The officer that had taken the call and the person who had found the body were a few feet away from the body, the officer still taking her statement. Grissom went to speak with her, leaving Catherine to start examining the body.

"I was walking my dog," the woman was saying to the officer. "And he pulled the leash out of my hand. When I found him, I found him too."

She nodded to the body.

Grissom asked, "Did either you or the dog touch the body?"

"No," the woman said. "Ruff was sniffing at it, but he didn't touch it."

Grissom nodded. "All right, thank you."

Catherine, half listening to the conversation, knelt beside the body, checking for ID. She found his wallet and flipped it open. "Michael O'Connell," she murmured, reading off the license. "Resident of NYC."

She glanced at his bruised and bloody face. "Welcome to Las Vegas."

**6: 42 AM Wednesday, January 7, New York City**

Robert Goren joined his partner Alex Eames at where the body of a woman who had been shot lay at the edge of Central Park. Eames looked up at him from her examination of the body. "Shot twice in the back, once in the head, no one saw a thing."

Goren looked around. "She wasn't shot here."

Eames looked around too. "How do you figure?"

"No blood," Goren pointed out. "She was shot somewhere else."

"Lovely," Eames commented, looking at the woman. "And they were nice enough to leave us her purse."

Goren frowned. "They left her purse? Does it have any ID?"

Eames nodded, opening the wallet. "Elaine O'Connell. Lived in Manhattan."

She flipped through the wallet and found a handful of pictures. "She's got a family."

"Someone wanted to make a statement," Goren said, studying the layout. "Why else leave the woman's ID?"

"Okay," Eames said. "What kind of statement?"

"That," Goren said, "is where detective work comes in."

**7:10 AM Wednesday, January 7, New York City**Olivia Benson and Elliot Stabler made their way down to the edge of the Hudson River where paramedics, a uniformed officer, and a witness were. Olivia held up her badge, looking at the paramedics. "Olivia Benson, SVU. What happened?"

The paramedic nodded to the girl on the stretcher. "Someone dumped the kid. Someone out for their morning jog found her. Excuse me—she needs to get to the hospital."

He and the other paramedics finished getting the girl into the ambulance and took off. Olivia joined Elliot, who was talking to the uniformed officer and the person who had found the girl.

"I was out for a jog," he said. "I usually go this way—I like the river. When I saw the girl, I called 911."

"Did you touch her?" Elliot asked. "Maybe to see if she was alive?"

The man nodded. "Yeah, on the wrist. My wife's a nurse, so it's kind of automatic."

"Okay," Elliot said. "We'll have to get your fingerprints so we can eliminate yours among any prints the girl has on her. If you'll go with this officer, he'll take care of it."

The man nodded agreeably and turned to follow the uniformed officer. Elliot and Olivia headed for the hospital where the girl had been taken and found her room and doctor.

The doctor saw them before they had said a word and asked, "Are you here about the girl they just brought in?"

"Yeah," Olivia said. "Detective Benson from SVU, this is Detective Stabler."

She showed her badge then asked, "How's she doing?"

"She's alive," the doctor said frankly. "Which surprises me, to be honest. She's a hairsbreadth from being dead."

"Is she conscious?" Elliot asked.

"Not hardly," the doctor said dryly. "Severe trauma to the head—severe trauma pretty much everywhere. I sent in the rape kit—I know you people like that as soon as possible."

"Do you think she will wake up?" Elliot asked. The doctor shook her head. "There is no telling. That she's still alive is miracle enough."

"Anything else?" Olivia asked.

The doctor shook her head. "She's been beaten within an inch of her life. That's about all I can tell you now."

"All right. Thanks doctor," Elliot said. The doctor left. Olivia looked into the girl's room, shaking her head. "She's only nine or ten years old."

"We'll get whoever did it," Elliot said. "Don't worry."

**2:58 PM Wednesday, January 7, Miami, Florida**

Horatio Caine looked at the body a fishing boat had just dragged out of the water. It was reasonably well preserved, and for the most part uneaten, which meant it could not have been in the water for more than a few days.

It was laid on the ground and Alexx Woods bent down to examine the body. She handed Horatio his wallet. Horatio flipped through. Credit cards, a Nevada driver's license, and a laminated emergency card.

"I like this person," he remarked, reading the numbers. "Brother, boss—hello."

Alexx looked up. "What?"

Horatio showed her the card. "Under boss."

Alexx read it and looked at him. Horatio tapped the card on his hand. "Lady Heather. I seem to remember Gil Grissom of the Las Vegas crime lab mentioning her once or twice. Perhaps I should give him a call."

**4: 26 PM Wednesday, January 7, San Francisco**

"Paige!"

Paige Matthews stuck her head out of her room, hollering, "What?"

"Come on, we've got to go! Are you coming or not?"

Paige grabbed her jacket and hurried downstairs, retorting, "Of course I'm going. It's not everyday my nephew gets a checkup."

Piper Halliwell rolled her eyes. "Then come on, we're going to be late. Phoebe!"

Phoebe Halliwell came out of the kitchen. "I'm ready, I'm ready. Don't yell."

"I didn't yell," Piper said, leading the way to the front door. She opened it, Wyatt in her arms, and shooed her sisters out, locked the door, and put Wyatt in his car seat next to Paige. Paige started cooing and talking to him as Piper got in.

They were halfway to the doctor's office when Phoebe let out a gasp, throwing her hand out. Piper turned to look. "Phoebe?"

"Vision," Phoebe said tightly. Piper kept driving, casting worried glances at her sister. Phoebe's eyes snapped open and she looked around frantically. "Turn right up here."

"What? Why? What did you see?" Piper asked, even as she moved to the right lane.

"A girl—early teens maybe—being attacked by a demon," Phoebe said grimly. "Just up here at the park."

Piper turned and they made their way to the small park. Piper and Paige looked around. Piper said, "Phoebe? I don't see—"

"There!" Paige said, pointing to where a strange looking demon had just slashed at a girl with his claws. Piper braked the car and she and Paige scrambled out, Piper ordering Phoebe, "Stay with Wyatt."

Piper and Paige dashed to where the demon and girl were. As soon as she was within range, Piper blew it up. The girl collapsed, staring at them wide eyed.

Paige skidded to a halt beside her, cursing. She was bleeding profusely from cuts on her face and body. Bruises covered her arms and face. She tried to scramble back as Paige knelt down beside her.

"Calm down," Paige said as soothingly as possible. "We're here to help."

The girl shook her head, drawing in great gulping breaths. "You can't," she said, her voice shaky. "I was dead hours ago—it's just taking longer than he thought."

"What do you mean?" Paige demanded. "Hang on—"

"It won't work," the girl said, seeing Paige's hands go over her. Paige shook her head. "It will. I can—"

"You can't heal everyone," the girl said. Paige stared at her. "What?"

The girl shook her head, shaking. "You can't. I—I went to Magic School—you guys are the Charmed Ones."

The sisters stared at her. Piper asked, "Why was that demon after you?"

"My-my dad was involved with'em."

Paige stared at her. Phoebe had walked up, carrying Wyatt, in time to hear that. Piper asked, "What do you mean involved?" as Paige asked, "What magic school?"

The girl coughed. "Business wise. I-I don't know exactly what it was he did, but—" She hesitated then said, "He did something they didn't like. They're dead."

"Who, the demons?" Piper asked. The girl shook her head. "Dad and Mom. I-I don't kn-know where my sisters are."

"Sisters?" Phoebe asked. The girl swallowed hard and nodded. "Two of them. Jessica and Regan—we were separated when—when the head demon guy gave us to his followers."

"Gave you—" Piper repeated, a disgusted look on her face. The girl nodded again, her eyes pleading, "Find them? Please? Regan's only nine—she can't survive with them by herself."

Phoebe nodded. "We'll find them."

Paige asked, "What's your name?"

"Carrie O'Connell," the girl said. She gave them a half smile. "Thanks."

Her eyes glazed over and she fell back. Paige looked at her two sisters. "She was right—I couldn't heal her."

Chris orbed in, looking from them to the girl. "What happened?"

"Demon," Phoebe said, cuddling Wyatt. "Come on. Wyatt's still got his appointment."

**8:47 PM Wednesday, January 7, Los Angeles**

Angel made his way down an alley, listening for signs of attack. It had been a quiet night so far. No demons attacking, no vampires trying to get a snack…

"Oh look who I found."

No Spike until now.

Angel turned, sighing. "What are you doing Spike?"

Spike shrugged, looking around. "I was out for a night time stroll. What are you doing?"

"What I do. Helping people," Angel growled. Spike raised an eyebrow. "Helping people? By wandering around? Oh, that'll do them a load of good."

"It's called patrolling," Angel said through gritted teeth. "You should know that."

Spike shrugged again. "Maybe I do. Doesn't mean I have to let you know it, does it?"

A shout distracted them from their argument. Angel took off in the direction it had come from, Spike ambling after.

Angel came around the alley to the street in time to hear, "You think you can escape? No one can escape!"

He looked around quickly, but he could not see anything. He dashed down the street and into another alley, again just in time to see a vampire drop a teenaged girl, blood dripping from his mouth. He saw Angel and hissed, "Angelus."

Angel slowed, already able to tell that the girl was dead. "Well who are you?"

The vampire smirked. "One of your clients, Mr. Bossman of Wolfram and Hart."

"That's nice," Angel said. "What was this about escaping?"

The vampire looked at the girl with contempt. "Wouldn't you like to know."

"Actually I would," Angel said. "What's her name?"

"O'Connell." The vampire smiled ruthlessly. "Jessica O'Connell. Run that through your database. See what turns up."

He turned to leave. He didn't get three steps away before a stake imbedded itself in his back, dusting him. Angel sighed, looking at him. "They just keep on declining my services."

**9:23 PM Wednesday, January 7, New York City**

Lennie Briscoe and Ed Green made their way through the mess that was police cars, uniformed officers, and coroner people to where the victim was. Briscoe looked at the coroner. "Well?"

"Teenager, sixteen or seventeen," the coroner said. "Killed by some monster, or so the witness says."

"Witness?" Green asked. The coroner nodded to where the woman stood, talking to a uniformed officer. "Yeah, witness. Girl was definitely killed by something with claws—she has four parallel cuts on her face and puncture wounds in her chest."

"Ow," Green remarked. He went to where the witness stood, saying, "I'm Detective Green. Can you tell me what you saw?"

"Like I told this gentleman here," the middle aged woman said. "I saw the girl enter the alleyway running, so I followed at a discreet distance, in case she was in trouble. Then I saw this thing that looked like a monster attack her. She fought well, but she lost."

"Now, when you say monster—"

"Oh, not a real monster," the woman said. "Probably just dressing up for Halloween early."

"Can you describe him?"

"Tall," the woman said. "Bulky, and brown costume. I didn't see the actual person, mind, and he didn't make any sounds except for roars and grunts."

"Thank you," Green said, smiling. He went back to Briscoe. "Monster. Well, let's find out who this kid is."

Neither noticed the dark haired young woman on top of the building behind them, watching them. Neither did they see her take off silently across the rooftop, away from the police hubbub, before returning to the street and entering an apartment. She picked up the phone.

**9:30 EST, London, England**

Rupert Giles nodded as he listened to the person on the other end. "Yes, yes of course. Thank you for telling us. Good-bye Faith."

Buffy Summers looked at him, her arms crossed in front of her chest. "What did Faith want?"

Giles looked at her. "Rona was killed a half an hour ago," he said quietly.

Buffy swore. "Faith saw it?"

"Fyarl demon," he agreed. "Apparently NYPD is involved—someone saw it."

"Oh, that's fun," Buffy muttered. "I wonder what they'll find."

"Absolutely nothing," Giles said firmly. "They can't."

"Sure they can't," Buffy muttered. One new Slayer down. When would the next one die?

A/N: Whoo. And a big hoo. Give me some feedback, even if it is "You're insane." I get it from my friends every time I mention this particular cross-over.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thanks for all the positive reviews guys!

Nascar girl: Y'know what? I'd completely forgotten that their name was O'Connell. No relation, promise. I considered tossing them in, but that was too much and wouldn't add to the plot at all.

Disclaimer: See first chapter, and HP belongs to JK Rowling.

**Chapter Two**

Thursday, January 8, Los Angeles

Angel was waiting for Wesley when the ex-Watcher entered his office the next morning. "I need some information."

Wesley glanced at him. "Hello Angel, it's nice to see you too. How are you this morning?"

Angel ignored that. "It's a name a vampire I dusted last night gave me. O'Connell. Jessica O'Connell. He said to run it through our database."

Wesley frowned. "Do you usually obey the directions of the dusted undead?"

"Wes."

"Fine," Wesley said, sitting down at his computer. "Let's see. O'Connell, Jessica."

He typed it in and waited. A minute later he said, "Well, there's no Jessica O'Connell, but there is a Michael O'Connell. 41, lives in New York with his wife and three daughters, ages 16, 14, and 9. Apparently he's a client of ours."

"So was the vampire that killed the girl," Angel remarked.

Wesley glanced at him. "Interesting. Must you keep killing our clients?"

Angel ignored that. "Guess we'd better tell him that one of his daughters is dead."

Wesley, staring at the screen, said, "That won't be necessary."

"Why not?"

"Because he was killed sometime last night. Las Vegas CSI has him."

**Thursday, January 8, New York**

Olivia entered the hospital, Elliot close behind her, and found the doctor they had talked to last night. Olivia said, "We got a call saying the girl from last night is awake?"

"Yes," the doctor said. "She's in ICU, room 215. You can talk to her, but I wouldn't get my hopes up. She's not talking to anyone."

Olivia nodded. "Thank you."

She made her way to the girl's room and opened her door quietly, looking in. She could see the girl on the bed, watching TV. She was small and pale, with shoulder length brown hair. When she turned her head nervously to see who was there, Olivia could see wide brown eyes staring at her fearfully.

"Hey," Olivia said softly. "My name's Olivia. I'm from the police department. Mind if I talk to you?"

The girl shook her head hesitantly, looking between her and Elliot as the two detectives entered. Olivia pulled a chair up as Elliot stayed near the door, so as not to frighten her more than she already was.

"How are you feeling?" Olivia asked.

The girl looked down and shrugged.

"Can you tell me your name?"

She looked up through a curtain of hair, her expression wary. "Regan."

"That's a pretty name," Olivia said with a smile. "Can you tell me what happened?"

Regan hunched her shoulders and shook her head. Olivia leaned a little closer, her voice still soft. "Regan, we can't get the people who hurt you unless you tell me what happened. I need you help to catch them."

"Can't," Regan whispered.

"Can't what? We can't catch them or you can't tell me?"

Regan looked up and whispered, "Both."

Olivia looked at her for a moment then asked, "Why?"

The small girl shuddered. "You won't believe me."

Olivia assured her quietly, "Yes I will."

Regan shook her head again.

"Okay," Olivia said. "Can you tell me your last name?"

Regan looked at her for a minute then back down. "O'Connell."

"Where do you live? Do you know your phone number?"

At this, a shadow of exasperation flashed across the girl's face. "Yes. I'm not stupid."

Olivia smiled while Elliot smothered a chuckle. "No, of course not. Can you tell me?"

Regan nodded.

**Thursday, January 8, New York**

Olivia and Elliot got out of their car and walked up to the other two detectives standing by the mailbox of the house. "What are you guys doing here?"

Goren and Eames were surprised by their presence and Eames said, "We were about to ask you the same thing."

"The little girl that was found by the river yesterday lives here," Olivia said, frowning. "Why _are_ you here?"

"Our vic lived here," Eames said. "Elaine O'Connell."

Olivia glanced at Elliot. Elliot shook his head. "Poor kid."

**Thursday, January 8, Las Vegas**

"Gris, phone."

Gil Grissom took the call. "Hello?"

"Grissom, it's Horatio Caine, from Miami CSI."

Grissom straightened in his chair. "Hello. What can I do for you?"

**Thursday, January 8, England**

"Buffy, I'm going for a walk," Dawn called, heading for the door of the house they were living in.

Buffy called back, "Be back before dark."

"Duh," Dawn responded and left. She wandered down the street, hands in her pockets as she looked around. She knew this area really well—they had lived here since a month or so after they defeated the First. They were in the process of rebuilding the Watcher's Council, but Dawn was getting a little stir crazy.

She turned down an unfamiliar street, ready to explore. The knowledge that Rona was dead had hit home for the Slayers that had decided to accompany them to England. Since defeating the First, some had begun to think they were invincible. Dawn wondered how Vi and Faith were doing. They were the only ones in New York right now. Other Slayers that had participated in the battle had returned home, fairly well trained, with a number to call and an option to join the rest in England at any time. They would get Watchers as soon as there were Watchers available.

She turned down another street and halted, staring wide eyed at the happenings in front of her. Two people in—were those robes?—were pointing short sticks at each other and different colored sparks were coming out of said sticks. Dawn ducked behind a pole and peered out, watching from a safe position.

Suddenly one of the persons vanished with a loud crack. Dawn didn't come out from behind her pole, watching the remaining person with avid curiosity. The person tucked his…stick…into a pocket in his robes then turned sharply, staring straight at her.

Dawn eeped and ducked behind the pole again. The person in robes sighed and muttered, "Bloody Muggles."

"Hey!" Dawn peered out, glaring at him. "No fair calling me names I don't understand."

She eeped and ducked again when the person said, "Obliviate!" and pointed the stick at her. The sparks missed her by inches.

She glared around the pole. "Quit that! Magic is no fair when one person can't fight back!"

The man halted, staring at her. Dawn, still glaring, said, "What, you think I don't know what magic is? Puh-lease—I know a powerful witch, and if you cast spells on me without my say-so, she'll get really upset."

He moved closer and Dawn could now see that he wore a bemused expression on his face. "You know a witch? Come out—I won't cast a spell on you."

Dawn came out warily, watching him suspiciously. "Yeah, I know a witch. Who are you?"

He looked at her, debating for a minute. Dawn took the opportunity to study him. He was of medium height and build with graying light hair. His robes were shabby, and there was something in his eyes that struck a familiar chord in Dawn. He finally said, "My name is Remus Lupin."

"Remus Lupin?" Dawn grinned. "Like Remus and Romulus, founders of Rome? The ones raised by wolves?"

Lupin smiled and nodded. "The very ones. Now, what is your name?"

"Dawn Summers," Dawn said promptly, then wondered if that was a really good idea, considering what they had just finished fighting. _Good job Dawn. A couple months out of Sunnydale and you completely lose all sense of survival. _

However, Lupin merely nodded. "It is a pleasure to meet you. You are from America?"

Dawn nodded. "Yup. Hey—was that a magic wand?"

Lupin frowned. "You know a witch and you don't recognize a wand when you see one?"

Dawn put her hands on her hips. "Assume much? She doesn't use a wand."

Lupin's eyebrows rose. "She doesn't use a wand."

"Nope." Dawn shook her head. "Completely wandless witch."

"She must be very powerful," Lupin observed.

Dawn nodded. "That's her. Really powerful. Who was that guy you were fighting?"

"A Death Eater."

"A what-ey what now?"

Lupin gave her a slightly amused, slightly confused look. "A Death Eater. A follower of Voldemort."

At her blank look, he added, "A bad guy."

"Oh." Her expression cleared. "Well, fighting is of the good then I guess." She glanced up at the darkening sky. "It's getting dark—I'd better get back."

"Allow me to accompany you," Lupin said with a smile. "A young girl by herself on these streets is not safe."

Dawn raised an eyebrow. "Okay, if you want to. But then you'll have to meet Buffy and everyone else—you sure?"

Lupin assured her, "I think I'll be fine."

Dawn shrugged. "Okay. This way."

They made their way back to where the Scoobies were staying. Dawn went to open the door when it was opened by one redhead with a slightly worried look on her face. "Oh, Dawnie, there you are. We were getting worried and who is this?"

Her eyes fixed on Lupin, narrowing a little with suspicion.

Lupin stepped forward, offering his hand. "Remus Lupin. Dawn and I happened to meet during her walk, and as it was growing dark I asked if I could walk her home."

"He was fighting a bad guy," Dawn informed the redhead. "Remus, this is Willow, the witch I was telling you about. Will, did you know that there are magic people who actually use wands?"

Willow blinked at her then at Lupin. "Um, yeah—I met a few when I was in England last year." She shook Lupin's hand. "Well, if you kept Dawn safe I guess you're a good guy. Do you want to come in? Buffy would probably want to say hi."

"Say hi to who?"

"Speak of the devil," Dawn said with a grin. "Hi Buffy. This is Remus Lupin. I met him while he was fighting a bad guy."

Lupin rolled his eyes. "Are you going to tell everybody?" he asked Dawn.

Dawn smiled innocently. "Yes."

Willow smiled at last, telling him, "You fighting a bad guy is probably your best recommendation for this group."

Lupin entered, looking around the house curiously, then at Willow. "Dawn says that you are a wandless witch."

"Yeah," Willow said. "I am."

"You must be extremely powerful," he commented.

Willow shrugged. "I'm all right."

Buffy snorted. Lupin turned to look at her, but the blond Slayer was looking at Dawn. Lupin returned his attention to Willow. He was about to say something when five girls walked up, one saying, "Buffy, when's dinner?"

"Yeah, we're hungry."

"And Giles said to ask you."

Buffy looked at them then at Willow. "Uh…Will?"

Willow smiled. "It's ready—Andrew and some of the others are already digging in."

Injured looks were shot at her. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Before she could respond, they had hurried to the kitchen.

Buffy let out an exasperated huff. "Teenagers."

"Hey!" Dawn said indignantly. "Teenager in the room?"

Lupin covered a small smile with a slight cough. "I suppose I should be going."

"Wait a sec," Dawn said, her indignation forgotten. "Maybe you should tell them about this bad guy you're fighting. I mean, we've been bad guy-less for—what, four months now?"

Buffy rolled her eyes. "Dawn, I'm sure it's not the type we deal with."

Lupin looked at her curiously. "You fight bad guys?"

Buffy gave him a studying look before saying, "Yeah, we do."

"Do what?" A dark haired young woman entered, looking at Buffy then at Lupin. "Hi, I'm Faith. Who are you?"

"Remus Lupin," Lupin said with a smile. "How do you do?"

"Wonderful. So, B, who is this? And did I hear something about fighting?" Faith asked.

"You did, and apparently Dawn saw him fighting a bad guy. What kind of bad guy, by the way?"

"A Death Eater," Lupin said.

"Huh. Never heard of'em," Buffy said with a shrug. "What kind of lame-o name is that…Will? You okay?"

Willow had stiffened at Lupin's answer, and she looked at him warily. "A Death Eater."

Lupin looked at her, slightly surprised. "Yes. You've heard of them?"

"Will?" Buffy asked, perplexed.

Willow was looking at Lupin. "You heard me say that I'd met some wizards when I was in England, right?"

Lupin nodded.

"Well, I heard two of them talking about Death Eaters. When I asked them about it, they—didn't say much, but they did say they worked for a really bad wizard."

"A really bad wizard?" Buffy snorted. "That's—so not frightening, it's not even funny."

Lupin glanced at Buffy. "I realize it sounds like a child's story, but what she says is true. Voldemort is not a wizard you can trivialize, unfortunately." He looked back at Willow. "You have met some wizards? Do you know who they are?"

Willow shook her head. "I'm sorry. I don't remember any names right off hand."

"Of course." Lupin glanced around at the group. "My apologies, but I really must be getting back."

"Oh, sure," Buffy said. "Thanks for bringing Dawn home safely."

Lupin nodded with a smile and left. Buffy looked at Willow. "Will—these bad guys—"

"They're bad, Buffy," Willow said soberly. "Like, getting up there with the baddies we've faced."

"Well, looks like we have a new battle to fight," Buffy sighed.

Dawn groaned then asked, "What should I start looking up?"

Willow looked thoughtful. "Actually, we need to talk to Giles. He would know how to get into contact with the wizards I met last year."

"Okay." Buffy nodded decisively then frowned. "Uh—why haven't you mentioned this before Willow?"

Willow looked sheepish. "I forgot? I mean, there are so many bad guys Buffy—they do tend to run together, especially when we're not in the middle of fighting them."

"True. Okay, time to call Giles. Where is he anyway?"

"Library," Dawn and Willow chorused.


	3. Chapter 3

I realize the Charmed episode Sleepy Halliwell happened in February, but I'm going to move it up a few weeks.

Disclaimer: See first two chapters and Stargate SG-1 belongs to whoever it belongs to—Sci-Fi, MGM, whatever—but not me (damn).

Chapter Three

Friday, January 9, Las Vegas

Gunn and Wesley entered the Las Vegas crime lab and walked up to the desk. Gunn said, "I'd like to speak with the person in charge of the Michael O'Connell murder."

"That would be me," a voice said. The three turned as a man with graying hair walked up, holding a file folder. He stopped in front of them. "Gil Grissom. How can I help you?"

"Michael O'Connell is a client of ours," Gunn said. "We would like to verify his death, and we would like to know what evidence you have gathered."

Grissom raised his eyebrows. "Are you lawyers?"

"From Wolfram and Hart," Gunn agreed.

"Never heard of them."

Gunn and Wesley exchanged glances then Wesley asked, "Could you tell us what you've found?"

"I can," Grissom said. "Whether I will or not is a different matter. Why are you interested again?"

"We would like something to be able to tell his family," Gunn said. "We have no plans to impede your investigation."

Grissom studied them for another minute then shrugged. "He was found on a roadside. There was evidence that he had been beaten and lacerations that could have come from claws of some kind."

"Claw marks?" Wesley queried. "Where, how many and how deep?"

"Four parallel scratches, on the chest, all fairly deep," Grissom said, giving him a suspicious look. "Why do you ask?"

"Just curious," Wesley said, looking pensive.

"Uh-huh." Grissom glanced back at Gunn. "That's all that I can release at this time."

"Of course," Gunn said. "Thank you for your time."

They walked out. Wesley looked at Gunn. "It certainly sounds like a demon."

"Yes it does," Gunn said. "Any idea what kind?"

"Possibly a Fyarl, or another warrior demon. There are plenty out there with four claws that cut deep."

"Guess it's time to see about researching."

-----

Saturday, January 10, Colorado Springs

Major Samantha Carter entered the Briefing Room, having received a page to meet the rest of the SG-1 team there. She sat down beside Colonel Jack O'Neil and asked, "Do you know what this is about?"

Jack shook his head. "Nope, but I'm sure we're going to find out."

"Indeed," Teal'c agreed.

Daniel Jackson nodded his agreement as General Hammond entered. "Thank you all for coming."

"What's up General?" Jack asked.

"All right," Hammond said. "I'll get right to it. A member of one of the SG teams has been killed."

The four members of SG-1 exchanged startled glances. Carter asked, "What happened, sir?"

"Rick Peters was vacationing in England with his family when he and the rest of his family were found dead by neighbors," Hammond said. "They have no idea how they died, as there is no obvious signs of what could have killed them as of yet."

"You suspect the Goa'uld?" Teal'c questioned.

"It's not unlikely," Hammond said. "I'd like you four to go investigate, discreetly. We don't want the British government to think we're stepping on any toes."

"Yes sir."

-----

New York City

Lennie Briscoe and Ed Green looked at the medical examiner. Briscoe asked, "So, Doc, what'd you find?"

The medical examiner shook her head. "A big mess. The girl had bruises, both surface and subcutaneous, lacerations, abrasions—"

"In English?" Briscoe asked.

"She's been really badly beat up," the medical examiner said dryly. "The wound that killed her are four puncture wounds that hit the lungs, although I'm sure the four that hit her belly didn't help."

"Four punctured her lungs?" Green asked, startled.

"Yup. They match the distance between the lacerations on other parts of her body," the medical examiner said. "Another thing—some of the bruises were at least a week old judging from the amount they had healed."

Briscoe glanced at Green. "So this has been ongoing."

"Looks like it," Green said. "Thanks."

"Sure."

The two detectives headed back to the precinct. Briscoe said, "Let's check out missing persons, since she's unidentified. Maybe that'll turn up a lead."

-----

Las Vegas

Horatio Caine and Calleigh Duquesne walked into the Las Vegas crime lab. Horatio said to the person at the desk, "We're here to see Gil Grissom."

"Down the hall."

"Thank you."

They went Grissom's office and Horatio knocked.

"Come in."

They entered and Horatio said, "Grissom."

Grissom looked up. "Caine. You ready to go?"

"I am. This is Calleigh Duquesne. Calleigh, Gil Grissom."

"Nice to meet you," Calleigh said.

"Likewise."

They drove to a building and got out. Grissom led the way inside. "I'm looking for Lady Heather."

"She's not here right now," a woman said.

"Really?" Grissom raised an eyebrow. "When will she be back?"

"Tonight."

"Thank you. Tell her Grissom stopped by, will you?"

"Sure."

The CSIs left. Horatio looked at Grissom. "Was that wise? Letting her know you were here?"

"Perhaps not." Grissom shrugged. "But there's less chance that we won't be able to get in touch with her when she comes back. She'll wait, out of sheer curiosity."

-----

England

Buffy looked at Faith. "So—Rhona went after a Fyarl demon alone?"

"Yeah." Faith nodded. "Didn't give me or Vi a chance to back her up. Then the police showed up."

"Do you know what they found?"

"Other than a teenage girl who'd been beat up and stabbed by claws? Nothing." Faith shook her head. "There was nothing to find—me'n Vi were never in the ally."

"Just making sure they won't try and send you back to jail," Buffy said.

Faith nodded again, still upset. The girl shouldn't have gone off after a demon by herself, much less a Fyarl demon. She had been in training for a while, but she still had been a novice, especially with big demons like that.

"How's training going in America?" Buffy asked, throwing Faith off of her line of thinking.

"What? Oh—training. Seems to be doing pretty well. Kennedy's enjoying being second in command." Faith gave a wry smile. "But she's keeping a lid on her drill sergeant self. Not scaring the newbies too much."

"Good." Buffy nodded.

"She told me to ask Willow when she's coming to visit." Faith grinned. "As if she hasn't been emailing her everyday. Guess she thinks that adding another person will make it a double whammy."

Buffy smiled wryly. "Well, she's not known for her patience—or her subtlety."

Faith snorted. "You can definitely say that again, only don't. How's recruiting here going?"

"Not bad. Rebuilding the Council's a pain, finding Slayers is tedious, and we need to find a building so that we're not split half in America, half in England. It feels to wrong," Buffy sighed.

"I hear you. I mean, the fact that Xander stayed in America to help—I didn't think he'd do that." Faith shook her head. "But he's been a godsend."

"He is that," Buffy agreed. "And you needed someone who could handle the girls. You definitely don't have the patience—"

"Hey!"

"And Robin still has that 'principal' air to him. Having Xander around is good for them. When you get back, tell him we miss him like hell over here."

"Will do," Faith promised.

-----

England

Carter followed Jack and Daniel out of Heathrow Airport, looking around with almost as much interest as Teal'c was. Daniel checked his notepad. "Okay—it happened at their home—8 Privet Drive. Let's find a cab." 

The four found a taxi and headed to the house. While Daniel and Teal'c kept watch, Jack jimmied at a window. Carter followed a hunch and tried the door. "Uh—Colonel?"

Jack looked at her, looked at his window, and said, "Good job. Let's go. Not a word from you Carter."

Carter hid a smile, asking innocently, "About what?" and followed him inside, Daniel and Teal'c behind her.

The SG-1 team began a methodical search of the house, searching for any signs of Goa'uld technology, but came up with nothing. Daniel remarked when they met up in the living room, "It's like nothing happened. There's no sign the Goa'uld were even here."

"Freeze!"

The four spun around and stared at the two people who were holding guns on them. They wore black clothes of special ops and held their guns like those experienced with weaponry. Jack raised his hands. "Whoa, now, chill. Hang on."

"Who are you?" the young man demanded. His partner, a young woman, just glared.

"I might ask you the same thing," Jack said. "Since you're obviously American, and we're American—and I'm guessing you're with special forces."

The gun did not waver. "Identification."

"Colonel Jack O'Neill," Jack said. "Mind if I get my wallet out?"

"Slowly."

Jack retrieved his ID and tossed it on the floor in front of them. The woman lowered her weapon and picked it up, giving it a close examination. "It's valid Finn."

The young man didn't move for a moment then lowered his gun and looked at the other three. "Who are you?"

Jack glanced at his team. Carter, seeing his slight nod, spoke first. "Major Samantha Carter."

"I'm Daniel Jackson," Daniel said.

"And I am Teal'c."

The two did not ask for Teal'c's last name, which surprised SG-1. The young man said, "Special Agent Riley Finn and my partner, Samantha Finn."

Jack raised his eyebrows. "Related?"

"Married," Riley said.

"Isn't that against the rules?" Daniel asked.

"They make exceptions for those in our unit," Riley said. "What are you doing here?"

"Investigating the death of a colleague. You?"

"Also investigating a death, of a member of the US military." Riley glanced at Sam. "The death was under suspicious circumstances."

"Yeah, we got that already," Jack said. "That's why we're here."

Riley looked at him, but it was Sam who asked, "Did they tell you that, aside from the fact that they were dead, there was nothing wrong with any of the bodies?"

Jack blinked. Carter frowned. "Is that possible?"

"That's our area of expertise—the supposedly impossible, improbable, and mystical," Riley said.

"Right…" Jack snorted. "Mystical?"

"Mystical," Riley agreed. "I happen to know a very good pair of witches and a vampire."

The SG-1 team stared at him.

Riley looked at his wife. "I'm calling Donalds to ship them home."

"Now wait just a minute," Daniel protested. "We were sent to investigate—"

"And it's being handled," Riley cut him off. "From what we've found, this is way out of your league."

"Oh yeah?" Jack asked.

"Regular military can't handle this," Riley agreed. "You're not trained for it."

Jack snorted. Teal'c said, "I believe you may underestimate us, Riley Finn."

"I'm sure you're excellent at what you do," Riley said as Sam Finn walked away to make the call. "You're just not excellent at what we do."

"And what do you do?" Jack queried.

"It's classified."

"But it has to do with mystical stuff?"

"That is correct."

"Right." Jack rolled his eyes.

Sam came back. "Finn—"

"What is it?" Riley asked.

"We're under orders to help them out and disclose what it is we do." She nodded to the SG team. "Apparently they work with situations like ours."

Riley looked at her then at Jack. "You hunt demons?"

"Demons? Nah." Jack shook his head. "Astrophysics."

Riley raised an eyebrow. "Aliens?"

"You don't seem surprised," Jack observed.

"I met an extraterrestrial demon once," Riley said. "It was not fun."

"Extraterrestrial demon?" Daniel asked, intrigued. "What did it look like?"

"Big, ugly, slimy. Lots of legs. Came out of a meteorite."

"Oh." Daniel blinked, then returned to what he had said before. "You hunt demons?"

Riley nodded. "I suppose if we're going to be working with you, we should fill you in. Demons are real, they kill humans, we kill them. Don't tell anyone."

Carter frowned at him. "Demons? As in—Satan's minions?"

"As in vampires, banshees, Polgaras, a lot of other creepy things that we label as demons," Riley replied.

"And—you think a demon killed Peters and his family," Jack clarified. Riley nodded. "A demon or something like it."

"There are things—like—demons?" Daniel asked.

"There are," Riley agreed.

"Like what?"

Riley looked at Sam, muttering, "This is going to take a while."

-----

Las Vegas

Lady Heather looked at the picture, frowning. "I know him."

"Oh good," Grissom said. "Who is he?"

Lady Heather glanced at him, then at Horatio and Calleigh. "He worked for me. Part time, at least."

"Uh huh. And what did he do with the rest of his time?" Horatio asked.

Lady Heather frowned, thinking. "I believe he worked for a man named Loknar."

"Loknar," Grissom repeated. "Do you know how to get in touch with Loknar?"

"No. I only know because I heard him talking to him on his cell phone one day." Lady Heather shrugged. "Kevin did not involve me in his personal life very often."

"Of course not," Horatio said. "You know, it's strange. He had your number listed under boss, but not this Loknar person."

Lady Heather raised an eyebrow. "Isn't that interesting."

"Yes, it is," Horatio said.

"Guess Loknar doesn't like visitors," Lady Heather said coolly. "You might try a local bar called The Three Horn. The impression I got was that he liked that sort of place."

-----

New York City

Olivia entered Regan's room, smiling slightly. The girl was watching TV and seemed a good bit more relaxed than yesterday. She heard the door open and looked over. "Hi Olivia."

"Hey Regan," Olivia said, sitting down in the chair. "How are you feeling today?"

"Okay." Regan hesitated then asked, "Did you find my mom and dad? And my sisters?"

Olivia hesitated then shook her head. "No, I'm sorry baby. Not yet. We're still looking."

Regan nodded. "Why are you here?"

"I wanted to ask you a question," Olivia said. "Maybe a couple."

"Okay."

"Do you remember who hurt you?"

Regan shook her head violently. "I tol' you, I can't tell!"

"Why not?" Olivia pressed.

"'Cause you won't believe me." Regan had a stubborn look on her face. "An' I'm not s'posed t'tell strangers about'em."

"About who?" Olivia asked.

"Any of'em." Regan scowled. "You're not s'posed t'know. It's not safe."

"What's not safe?"

"Nuh-uh." Regan shook her head stubbornly. "The Cleaners would get mad."

"The Cleaners?" Olivia asked. "Who are they?"

Regan shook her head again. "Can't tell."

"Did the Cleaners hurt you?"

Regan rolled her eyes. "No."

"Who did then?"

"Can't _tell _you!"

--------

Elliot looked at Goren and Eames. "So what have you guys found with Regan's mom?"

Goren glanced at him. "Ah—she was shot, three times. Once in the head—that's the shot that killed her. So far trace hasn't found anything to identify her killer. What about the girl?"

Elliot sighed. "Liv says she won't tell where she was, who took her, who hurt her, anything. The only she said that may be useful was that the Cleaners would get mad if she told."

"The Cleaners?" Eames repeated. "That's an interesting name."

"Yeah," Elliot agreed.

"Cleaners," Goren murmured. "If she was talking about her attackers, I wonder why she would call them Cleaners."

"Maybe she wasn't talking about her attackers," Elliot mused. "Olivia said she said they weren't."

"So who else could they be?"


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: See last chapters

Chapter Four 

**Saturday, January 10, Los Angeles**

"Ah, here we go."

Angel walked over, peering over Wesley's shoulder. "Here we go where?"

"Some information on his wife. Not good news, I'm afraid. This is the New York paper—she's dead."

"Gee, big surprise," Angel muttered. "How?"

"Gunshot wounds," Wesley remarked. "That's new."

Another screen flashed and Wesley switched over. "Oh dear."

"Oh dear what?" Angel asked. "What is that?"

"Hospital records," Wesley said.

"You hacked into the hospital?"

Wesley ignored that, saying, "Regan O'Connell was brought in three days ago, beaten and apparently left for dead." He peered at the screen. "It's a wonder the girl's even alive, what with the injuries she sustained."

"Mystical?" Angel asked.

"Not the injuries," Wesley remarked. "Whether she had mystical healing remains to be seen. I highly doubt it, but it may have been magic that kept her alive."

"So do we go investigate that?"

"I doubt it will do any good," Wesley said. "Unless she is willing to talk to complete strangers who have no business asking questions—namely us."

"Right." Angel made a face. "So—go back to investigating Michael O'Connell's demon connections?"

"That might be wise."

**Las Vegas**

Grissom, Horatio, Calleigh, and Catherine entered the bar Lady Heather had mentioned, looking around. Catherine leaned over and murmured to Grissom, "This place seem a little—off?"

"Just a bit," Grissom replied, giving a man that was green and had a horn an appraising look. He walked up to the bar and peered at the bartender. "Hello. I am looking for someone called Loknar."

"Never heard of him."

Catherine glanced around then at the bartender. "You sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Maybe we should bring you into the station for questioning," Catherine remarked. "Might refresh your memory."

Someone tapped Catherine roughly on the shoulder. "You lookin' for Loknar?"

Catherine turned around and gave the beefy young man an appraising look. "Yeah. You know him?"

"Anyone with any brains knows Loknar," the guy snorted. "Wanna go outside and talk?"

"Sure," Catherine said. "Can my friends come to?"

He leered unpleasantly. "If they want."

They went out the back, into an alley of some sort. Then the guy rounded on Catherine, his face suddenly grotesquely disfigured and lunged at her.

Horatio and Calleigh both pulled out their guns before Grissom did, but before they could shoot, the guy turned to dust. The four CSIs stared at the girl standing a few feet back, a crossbow in her hand and a disgusted look on her face. "Going into a demon bar's really stupid," she informed them. "Leaving with a vampire is even more stupid."

"Vampire," Catherine repeated, remembering a recent case they had encountered where people believed they were vampires. "Like—worshipping vampires, stuff like that?"

The girl made a sound that sounded suspiciously like a 'phfft' and a snort and said, "Like 'suck you dry and not have another thought about it' vampires. What you're talking about are the vampire worshiping cults, which I'm told are numerous here."

"R-ight."

"Who are you?" Grissom asked.

The girl walked up, the crossbow held loosely in her left hand, and stuck out her right hand. "Cally Fields. Who're you?"

"Gil Grissom, CSI," Grissom said.

Cally's eyes widened and she took a half a step back. "Oh—uh-oh—oh shit."

"Something wrong?" Horatio asked, taking a step towards her. "Cally, what are you doing carrying around a crossbow?"

"Shit," Cally muttered again. "Why do I always say the wrong thing to the wrong person? Faith is gonna kill me."

**England**

Dawn opened the door and found herself looking at a sheepish looking Lupin. "Hello Dawn."

"Hey…Not that I'm not happy to see you, but what are you doing here?" Dawn asked.

"I mentioned our meeting to a friend of mine," Lupin said. "And he would like to meet with you and your friend—Willow, isn't that her name?"

"Yeah, that's her name," Dawn said. "Who is he and why?"

"My apologies for not sending notification of my arrival," a cheerful, slightly older voice said. Dawn looked past Lupin and blinked at the man standing behind him, trying to figure out how she had not seen him.

"Who are you?" she asked.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore," the white haired wizard said. "You are Dawn Summers, correct?"

"Yeah."

"You are a friend of Willow Rosenberg, I am led to understand."

Dawn nodded. "Uh huh—why?"

"I have met Miss Rosenberg before," Dumbledore explained. "When I heard that she was in England, I thought it might be nice to have a word with her."

Dawn eyed him suspiciously then shrugged and stepped back. "'Kay, but if you try to hurt her or anything, she'll kick your butt. Then she'll kick mine for letting you in."

Dumbledore chuckled. "I have no doubt she is capable."

"Wasn't talking about Willow, though she probably would too. This way."

She led them inside, past a closed door where shouting could be heard, and up a flight of stairs. "Willow."

A red head popped out of a doorway. "What's up, Dawnie?"

"Uh—these guys wanted to see you."

Giles's bespectacled face joined Willow as Lupin came into view. "Mr. Lupin, what a surprise. Come in."

The two backed away before Dumbledore cleared the stairs and, as a result, did not see him. Dawn led the way into the room, followed by Lupin. Dumbledore entered, saying cheerfully, "Good day all."

Willow started. "Dumbledore!"

Giles laid a light hand on Willow's arm, looking at Dumbledore. "Hello Albus."

"Mr. Giles, Miss Rosenberg," Dumbledore said politely. "I heard you were here and thought I would drop by."

"Why?" Willow asked suspiciously then, at a light squeeze from Giles, gave her head a shake and the two wizards a rueful look. "Sorry."

Dawn watched, confused. "Uh—Will? Do you have, like, a problem with them? 'Cause I so did not know—"

"It's fine, Dawn," Giles said. "We were startled, is all."

"Uh huh." Dawn continued to eye the two wizards suspiciously.

Giles cleared his throat. "Dawn, would you go downstairs please?"

"And do what?"

"I don't care," Giles informed her.

Dawn rolled her eyes but took the hint and left. Giles looked at Dumbledore and Lupin. "Would you like to sit down?"

"Thank you," Dumbledore said, taking a seat. Lupin sat as well.

Willow asked, "So—what? Are you checking up on me or something?"

"Not at all, my dear," Dumbledore assured her. He smiled. "I do believe I may trust you more than you trust yourself."

"Not anymore," Willow said, finally relaxing and taking a seat. Giles joined them, relieved that Willow had calmed down.

"Oh?" Dumbledore queried.

Willow nodded. "It's been an…interesting year."

**England**

"Okay…so you're saying there are these demon thingies running around and most of the world has never seen or heard of them?"

Riley nodded, suppressing a sigh of exasperation. They had gone back to the apartment he and Sam were using as a quasi-base camp while here and he had started to explain demons to the members of the SG team. It was not moving particularly quickly.

"Yes."

"Why is it that no one knows of them?" Daniel asked. He was intrigued at the revelation, wondering how that changed what he knew of history, but also skeptical.

"People do. They just don't believe in them," Sam said. "Witches, vampires, werewolves—"

"But if they're real, why doesn't the general public know?" Carter asked.

"If aliens are real, why doesn't the general public know?" Riley returned, getting tired of explaining. He wished Giles was here. The Watcher could explain just about anything.

Carter blinked. "Good point."

"But…it's not just vampires and witches," Daniel said, still trying to get a grasp on this concept. "It's—other things that people have never seen."

"People rationalize," Riley said. "They see a demon, say it couldn't be real, and forget about it. Trust me. I've seen it happen many times."

Jack shook his head. Aliens were bad enough, but now he was supposed to believe in demons, witches, and vampires? It had to be a really bad joke.

Carter asked, "So…what do you think killed those people?"

Riley shook his head. "I haven't the faintest idea. I've never seen a demon that could kill without leaving some sign."

Sam glanced at her husband. "We could ask B—"

"No." Riley looked at her. "I don't want to bother her with this. She has enough on her plate, with everything that happened last year."

"Er…" Daniel looked at them, confused. "Who are you talking about?"

"A friend," Riley said.

"Who has a lot more experience with these kinds of things than we do," Sam pointed out.

"Couldn't they have just been smothered or something?" Jack demanded.

"No," Carter said. "Even smothering leaves medical evidence." Sam Finn had given her the medical reports to look at when they had gotten to the apartment. "There was no sign of anything whatsoever being wrong with them, except that they were—well—"

"Dead," Jack finished with a sigh. "Teal'c, buddy, you've been quieter than usual. What do you think about this demon garbage?"

Teal'c had been studying the Finns very carefully, and he now said, "I do not consider it garbage, O'Neil. It does not appear the Goa'uld had anything to do with these deaths."

Jack threw his hands up dramatically. "Fine! Let's go demon hunting."

**Las Vegas**

Horatio gave the girl, Cally, another assessing look. "Cally," he repeated calmly. "Why are you carrying around a crossbow in the middle of the city?"

"Uh…" Cally gave them a bright smile. "Renfair practice?"

Horatio shook his head. Grissom and Catherine watched him, a little amused at the way he was handling her. "Sorry. Try again."

Cally bit her lip. "Would you believe I was transporting it for a friend?"

"And can obviously use it well? No."

Cally looked at Calleigh and Catherine, as if hoping they would get her out of this.

"Cally." Horatio gave her a pointed look. "Let's try the truth."

Cally looked back at the Miami CSI. "The truth," she repeated. "The truth is really scary, d'you know that? What were you guys doing in there anyway?"

Horatio glanced at Grissom, who said, "Looking for a guy named Loknar. You know who he is?"

Cally snorted. "Who doesn't?"

"Do you know where to find him?" Grissom asked.

"If I did, he would probably no longer be with us on this plane," Cally informed him. "Loknar's bad news. I would suggest y'all stay away from him."

Calleigh looked at her curiously. "Were you planning on doing the same?"

The girl shrugged. "As much as possible."

"Really?" Catherine asked. "Is that why you're walking around with a crossbow? Usually a girl your age uses mace or pepper spray."

Cally rolled her eyes. "Most of the problems I run into are surprisingly immune to the stuff. Crossbows make an impact."

"They certainly do," Horatio said, looking down at the dust that used to be a vampire then at Cally. "Especially when you murder someone with it."

"I didn't murder nobody," Cally said stiffly. "Do you see a body?"

Catherine glanced at the dust pile then back at the girl. "Why did that guy turn to dust again?"

Cally just eyed them suspiciously. "Can I go? Or am I being arrested?"

"You can go." Grissom said. "Take my card though—in case you need to get in touch."

He handed her his card. Cally pocketed it, wondering if she would ever need to get in touch with him, and slipped off.

The CSIs watched her go, then Horatio looked at Grissom. "Now what?"

Grissom just looked at Catherine, who nodded and started after the girl. Horatio raised an eyebrow. "Follow her?"

"Not everyone," Grissom said. "That would spook her."

Calleigh adjusted her holster, said, "I think I'll join her," and caught up with Catherine.

Horatio remarked, "Depending on who the girl is with, that could be dangerous."

"We have a Loknar to find," Grissom said. "Catherine can handle herself."

Horatio nodded. "Inside?"

"Inside. Let's just be careful about leaving with people."

**England**

Willow fidgeted nervously where she sat. "So…besides just to drop in, is there any other reason you're here?"

Dumbledore looked extremely comfortable in his chair. "Willow, do you honestly believe I have some ulterior motive?"

"Yes," Willow said dryly.

Lupin chuckled. "Albus, how long have you known the girl? She certainly seems to have gotten to know you quite well."

Dumbledore, too, chuckled appreciatively. "Miss Rosenberg is a highly intelligent young woman, Remus. And to answer your question Willow, no, not particularly."

"How are things in the wizarding world?" Giles asked, his tone guarded. "I haven't spoken to the coven in quite some time."

"Coven?" Lupin asked.

"There is a coven of witches in Devon," Dumbledore said. "One that I have known for quite some time. It was they who referred Willow to me."

"Why?" Lupin asked.

"Magical training," Dumbledore said.

"Ah."

Before anything else could be said, the door opened and a dark head popped in. "Willow, where's Buffy?"

Willow frowned at Faith. "I don't know. Why?"

"Kennedy just called, said that one of the Slayers in Vegas called her and said that she had a run in with the police. Who are you?"

"Hello," Lupin said. "Faith, is it?"

Faith glanced at Lupin. "Hey. Seriously though—who's the Merlin look alike?"

Dumbledore chuckled. "I'm sure I don't look that much like Merlin, do I?"

"A little," Willow admitted. "Faith, this is Albus Dumbledore. Albus, this is Faith."

"Hey." Faith shook his hand. "Nice to meet you. So, Will—Slayer problems?"

"Um…yeah…" Willow looked flustered for a moment. "Doesn't one of the girls know where she went?"

"No."

Giles frowned. "What sort of run in?" he queried.

"Uh—vamp was attacking four CSIs, she dusted the vamp, and they started asking questions. Said she finally got to leave, but they followed her for a couple blocks before she lost them."

"Why did she call Kennedy then?" Giles asked.

Faith made a face. "She said she mentioned my name."

Giles raised an eyebrow.

"Unintentionally," Faith added. "But still."

Willow quirked a smile. "Oh, that. I got that taken care of a couple months ago."

"Take care of?" both Faith and Giles repeated.

Willow nodded. "Buffy wanted me to—didn't want you making a mistake and letting your identity slip to the wrong people," she explained. "So she asked me to try and do something to get you out of the system."

Giles looked slightly disapproving, but incredibly relieved. Faith was surprised. "Oh. Thanks Red—so wha'd you do?"

"I deleted your file," Willow shrugged. "It wasn't hard."

"Cool." Faith relaxed. "Okay, so now we just have to worry about her getting in trouble."


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: see previous chapters.

Chapter 7

**Las Vegas**

When Grissom, Catherine, Horatio, and Calleigh returned to the station, Grissom said, "I'm going to take another look at Mr. O'Connell."

"Would you mind if I joined you?" Horatio asked. Grissom shook his head, and the two made their way to the morgue.

Twenty minutes later, Grissom was giving one of the claw marks a close examination when he pulled out what looked like the tip of a claw that had caught on the victim's rib cage. He picked it up with a pair of tweezers, studying it. "Horatio."

Horatio looked at the claw tip. "That's very interesting."

"I don't think I've seen anything quite like this," Grissom remarked. He bagged it for closer inspection later and went back to examining the body. There was not a whole lot left to find—Doc was extremely thorough. He had noted that the claw marks seemed to have left a residue that their lab could not identify—it was organic, but that was all that had been determined. Doc had also noted that the body was not in good condition, which led Grissom to believe that Mr. O'Connell had been held captive before being killed. Pictures of his family—a wife and three daughters—had been found, but attempts to contact the number on his driver's license had proved fruitless.

Grissom finally dropped the claw off at the lab and went home to get some sleep while Horatio went to the hotel to do the same.

**England**

"Okay…so magic is real, demons are real, and your unit of the Army hunts them." Jack looked at the rest of his team. "Anyone else feel like we just got tossed into a fairy tale?"

Carter nodded, as did Daniel. Teal'c just raised his eyebrow. "Are fairies real as well?"

"No," Riley said. "At least, not as far as we know."

"Wonderful." Jack stretched. "So Captain America, what was your next move?"

Riley gave him a withering look. "I was going to check with a few contacts I have in the underworld, see if they know anything."

"Underworld?" Daniel asked. "Like, crime?"

"Like, underworld. Demons," Riley said dryly. "Would you like to come?"

Sam shot her husband a look. "Finn."

"What?"

Daniel and Carter exchanged glances. That didn't sound pleasant.

**San Francisco**

Phoebe came home, a newspaper in her hand, and immediately ran into Chris. The half whitelighter asked, "What's up? You look—"

"Yeah, I know. Where are Paige and Piper?" Phoebe asked.

"Piper's with Wyatt. Paige is in the kitchen. Phoebe—"

Phoebe headed for the stairs, calling, "Paige, upstairs."

Paige's head poked out of the doorway. "Why?"

"Because I think we found one of Carrie's sisters," Phoebe said, and vanished around the corner. "Piper."

Piper came out, carrying Wyatt. "I heard. What makes you think—oh."

She took the newspaper article Phoebe offered her. "Regan O'Connell, found in New York the same day as we found Carrie—I'd say that's our girl." She looked at Phoebe. "What do we do now?"

"Shouldn't we go see how she's doing?" Paige asked. "I mean, her parents and at least one of her sisters are dead, whether she knows it or not. And if Carrie's a witch, good bet she is too."

Phoebe glanced at Piper, who said, "She's at a hospital right now—SVU's investigating. SVU—isn't that special victims?"

Phoebe nodded. "A lot of crimes against children are under their jurisdiction, not just sexual abuse, but…"

"Ew," Paige muttered. "I hate those cases."

"So say us all," Phoebe replied. "Let's go then. Paige, you want to orb us there or bring Leo along?"

"Let's bring Leo," Paige said, glancing at Piper.

Piper nodded. "Leo."

There was a swirl of bright white lights that coalesced into a young man with sandy hair. "What's up?"

Piper handed him the paper. "We are going to New York. Chris, would you watch Wyatt?"

Chris nodded, taking the baby, and watched them disappear in a swirl of sparkly lights.

**New York**

Olivia knocked lightly on Regan's door, smiling at the girl. Regan grinned. "Hi Olivia."

"Hi Regan. How are you doing?" Olivia asked, sitting down.

"I feel better," Regan said. "Why are you visiting? D'you have more questions?"

"Not unless you want to tell me what happened," Olivia said, and nodded when Regan shook her head firmly. "That's what I thought. No, I just stopped by to see how you were doing."

"Lots better," Regan assured her.

"That's good."

There was a soft knock. Olivia turned to see Goren standing in the doorway, a small smile on his face. Their respective bosses had told them to team up to find whoever committed the crimes, instead of giving the entire thing to one team. They still had yet to find Regan's father or two older sisters, and they had not told her about her mother yet.

"Hey," Goren said. "Regan, right?"

Regan nodded warily, looking from him to Olivia, and whispered, "Who's he?"

Olivia smiled, smoothing her hair back. "This is Detective Bobby Goren. He and his partner Alex Eames are working with me and Elliot."

"Oh." Regan visibly relaxed. "Okay. Hi Detective Goren."

Goren smiled. "Just call me Bobby. I hear you're feeling better."

Regan nodded.

"That's good to hear." Goren leaned against the doorjamb. "Maybe now that you're feeling better, you can fill us in on some stuff, like maybe, when you were taken?"

Regan shot Olivia an injured look. "I'm 9, not stupid," she informed her. "I tol' you, I can't tell."

"Not even when?" Goren asked. "Come on, it won't hurt anyone, will it?"

"No," Regan said patiently. "If I tell you that, then I'll start telling you everything. Don't you watch TV?"

Olivia looked down, trying not to laugh. She had told him it probably wouldn't work. "All right, we'll stop pestering," she said. "But if you think of something you _can_ tell us, then will you?"

Regan shrugged noncommittally. "I'm hungry."

Olivia and Goren both easily recognized the blatant attempt to change the subject. Olivia stood up. "How about I find you something to eat, then?"

"'Kay."

The two detectives walked out. Regan watched the television without really seeing it, biting her lip. _You can't tell them_, she told herself firmly. _They'll get hurt._ She knew it, she'd been told about telling the outside world about magic before, but maybe if she told, they'd find her mom and dad and Carrie and Jessica.

There was a soft rap on her door. Regan turned, expecting to see Olivia back with the food, but instead she saw a dark haired young woman. She eyed her warily. "Who are you?"

The woman smiled reassuringly. "Someone you probably don't know, but don't worry—I'm one of the good guys."

Regan was unimpressed. Like she had told Olivia, she did watch TV. "The bad guys always say that before they do something bad."

The woman grinned. "That's true. My name's Phoebe. You're Regan, right?"

Regan sat up a little straighter. "Phoebe Halliwell?"

"Oh, so you have heard of me."

"Who hasn't?" Regan demanded. "I mean, you're a Charmed—" She fell silent, eyeing Phoebe suspiciously. "How do I know you're really Phoebe?"

"Phoebes? Is she going to freak out, or do we continue to stand out here until the detective comes back?" a voice hissed.

"You mind if my sisters join me?" Phoebe asked.

Regan, her eyes widening, shook her head, and she watched in something akin to awe as the two other sisters and Leo entered.

The woman with red-orange hair shut the door then smiled brightly at Regan. "Hi. I'm Paige."

"Wow," Regan whispered. "You really are the Charmed Ones."

"Yup," Phoebe said. "That's Piper, and that's Leo, and Paige already introduced herself."

"Wow," Regan repeated. "I wish Carrie was here—she'd be so jealous!" She grinned. "She loves you guys."

Piper glanced at Phoebe. Regan saw. "What?"

"Nothing," Phoebe said.

But Regan frowned now. "Uh…why are you guys here? Don't you live in San Francisco?"

Phoebe nodded. "We do. We just—were visiting—and heard that you were here, and since you're a witch and in trouble, we thought we'd help."

Regan eyed her suspiciously. "I thought you helped innocents. Did your whitelighter tell you I was here?"

"Do you have a whitelighter?" Paige asked.

Regan shook her head. "Mom does, but me and my sisters don't."

"Oh. Do you know his name?"

"_Her_ name is Kristen."

"Excuse me."

The sisters and Leo turned, startled, and saw the detective from earlier looking at them in a very much not-happy way. No, she looked downright aggravated as she stared down the four strangers. "Who are you and what are you doing here?"

"We were visiting our young friend here," Paige said. "Regan?"

Regan gave a half smile. "It's okay Olivia—I know'em."

Olivia relaxed marginally, still annoyed that they had sneaked by. "Who are they?"

"Friends."

Olivia eyed Leo, then the three sisters, then looked at Regan. "Who are they?"

Regan pointed to each as she said, "That's Phoebe, an' that's Piper, an' that's Paige, an' that's—uh—Leo."

Phoebe nodded at the slight hesitation at Leo's name, then looked back at Olivia. "Satisfied?"

"No. Would you mind stepping out into the hall?" She looked at them. "All of you."

Paige glanced at Piper and Phoebe and followed them out. Olivia shut Regan's door and walked a few feet before demanding, "What is your business here?"

"Like my sister said, we're visiting Regan," Phoebe said. "Have you gotten any leads or anything as to who did that to her?"

"No," Olivia said curtly. "She won't talk about it. If you're not family, I'll have to ask you not to come back until she gets out of the hospital. Family members only."

"At least one of her family members is dead," Leo said soberly. "Whoever did this targeted her family. We're trying to figure out why."

Olivia eyed him suspiciously. "We know her mother was killed."

"Damn," Phoebe muttered. "That makes two."

"Two?" Olivia asked sharply. "Who else?"

"Her sister," Phoebe said. "One of them, at least."

**England**

"Excuse me." Lupin looked between Willow, Faith, and Giles, a strange expression on his face. "Did you say—Slayer problems?"

"Yeah." Faith glanced at Giles and Willow. "Should I have not? He's a wizard, right? That's what you said yesterday."

"He is," Willow agreed, looking at Lupin curiously. "You've never heard of the Slayer?"

"We have." For the first time in Willow's memory, Dumbledore sounded very grave as he looked between the three Americans.

"Okay, so what's the big?" Faith wanted to know. "You know what a Slayer is, right?"

"Indeed," Dumbledore said, looking at her intently. "Not someone to be trifled with."

Faith tossed Willow and Giles a grin. "Can that be our motto? I went patrolling last night and the damn vampire hadn't even heard of me."

Lupin started, half rising. "You're the Slayer?"

"She's one of them," Willow said slowly. She eyed the two wizards, not understanding their reactions. Lupin was fingering his wand, and even Dumbledore looked a little tense.

"One of them," Dumbledore repeated, startled.

Giles, too, was looking at the wizards curiously. "There is more than one now," he said, resettling his glasses as he peered at the two men. "We were in a bit of a tight spot last year."

"And you thought bringing more Slayers into the world would be helpful?" Lupin demanded, getting the rest of the way to his feet. "You must be mad."

"Hey!" Faith protested, crossing her arms.

Giles raised a hand to stop her, both he and Willow watching the wizards carefully. He asked, "What, exactly, does the wizarding world believe a Slayer is, Mr. Lupin?"

Dumbledore cleared his throat, his blue eyes sharp. "The Slayer is a magical creature, imbued with super-strength and magic to hunt."

"Creature?" Faith demanded, outraged.

"Well, other than that they got it right," Willow said with a glance at Giles. "They left some stuff out though."

"Such as?"

"The demons part," Giles said dryly. "Actually, the vampire part. The full title is Vampire Slayer. The Slayer is the one girl chosen in the whole world to defend against the vampires and demons and forces of darkness, and of course I'm paraphrasing."

"And, also, there's more than one now," Willow pointed out.

Now it was Dumbledore and Lupin's turn to exchange glances; at a nod from Dumbledore, Lupin sat down again but he kept his wand in his hand.

"Why? What'd you think we hunted?" Faith wanted to know, still peeved about the 'creature' comment.

"Everything. Anything." Lupin eyed her warily.

"Slayers don't kill humans," Willow said. "Wizards are humans. Why would the wizarding world be afraid of them?"

"All of our books say that they kill without regard," Dumbledore replied. "They hunt and kill what their Council sends them after."

Giles snorted, suddenly realizing where the trouble lay. "It is amazing what one angry person can accomplish," he remarked, earning raised eyebrows from Willow and Dumbledore. "Approximately two and a half centuries ago, give or take, a wizard was accepted into the Council—some sort of outreach thing, bring the magical communities together. The wizard and the Slayer at the time did not get along very well; there was a falling out, and the wizard left the Council. The wizarding world was not informed of the little experiment, just in case what wound up happening happened." He glanced at Faith and Willow. "Apparently, he took out his ire by starting rumors."

"Makes sense," Willow admitted. "The Council was not the most fun group of people to be around."

"Was?" Dumbledore inquired.

"It got blown up," Faith said, trying not to smile. "By a minion of the big bad that made us decide—or Buffy decide, actually—there needed to be more than just two Slayers around."

The wizards stared at them for a moment, startled, then Dumbledore leaned forward. "This is a story that I think we must hear."

**New York**

The Charmed Ones and Leo waited for the detectives to leave for real this time, then, after a quick discussion, Phoebe made her way back into Regan's room. The girl looked up and grinned. "I thought Olivia woulda kicked you out."

"She tried," Phoebe replied with a smile. "We don't get kicked very easily, though." She pulled up a chair and sat down. "I wanted to ask you a few questions. You willing to talk to me? The detectives said you weren't telling them anything."

"I couldn't," Regan explained. "I'm not s'posed to tell regular people about magic stuff."

"That's very true." Phoebe nodded. "But other witches are okay?"

"Course." Regan sat up a little bit more. "Are you going to help?"

"We're going to try, sweetie," Phoebe assured her. "We're going to try real hard."

"Okay."

"What can you tell me?"

Regan shrugged, fiddling with her blanket as she looked at Phoebe. "A lot. Dad was really high up in Loknar's group."

"Loknar?" Phoebe asked.

"Demon." The girl shivered. "I saw him once—he was scary."

"I bet. How did you find out about stuff?"

Regan couldn't keep a half smile off her face. "Dad took me to work a couple times, when no one else could watch me. I was s'posed to stay where he told me to, but I'm real good at sneaking."

Phoebe smiled back. "You eavesdropped on what was going on. Very cool. I take it you never got caught."

"Never."

"What'd you hear?"

The girl drew in a breath, held it for a second, then let it out as she tried to get the information in an order that would make sense—her teachers were always telling her to stop and think before she started rattling stuff off. "The last meeting Dad took me to, I heard them talking about an alliance."

"Alliance?" Phoebe asked, surprised. "With who?"

"A wizard, 'n a—I can't remember exactly what they called her. Sounded like gold, but that can't be right."

"A wizard?" Phoebe frowned, thinking about that. "I thought wizards had died out."

"So'd I," Regan admitted. "That's what I was taught at Magic School, anyway. But I guess they got it wrong, or these are different kinds of wizards."

"You know the wizard's name?"

"Um…no?" she offered. She made a face. "It was a weird name—started with a V, ended in something like –mort or –wart or something like that."

"And the woman?" Phoebe asked.

"Morrigan," Regan said promptly. "I remember her cuz I studied her last semester. Or, at least, the goddess that she got her name from."

"Good going," Phoebe murmured, thinking about that. "Is she a witch? Oh, wait—you said you couldn't remember what they called her. Okay, that's interesting." She smiled at the girl. "Nice eavesdropping. Last question and then you can get back to your TV, 'kay?"

"I'm not in any hurry," Regan pointed out. "I'm stuck here 'til they say I can go."

Phoebe grinned. "Bored?"

Regan rolled her eyes. "Out of my skull."

"We'll see if we can help with that," Phoebe assured her with a smile. "Last question."

Regan shifted, suddenly looking a little uneasy. "Why my family was taken."

"Bingo."

She looked down, fiddling with the blanket again. After a minute, she said softly, "He was going to betray them."

"He?" Phoebe asked, keeping her own voice soft. "Your dad?"

The girl nodded, still looking down. "He thought it was a stupid idea—said the wizard couldn't be trusted, 'n neither could Morrigan. Said he'd go to the Elders, 'n he'd go to the Ministry, whatever that is, 'n the Council—don't know what that one is either."

"He said this to his boss?" Phoebe asked, her opinion of the man's intelligence taking a dive.

"No." Regan glanced up, a ghost of a smile brushing her face before it faded. "He was at home, talking to Mom. He didn't know that Loknar had the house bugged."

"Ah." Phoebe nodded. "I see. So Loknar found out—"

"And took all of us," Regan finished, back to fiddling with the blanket. "Took us to his main base in Vegas. We were all separated—I know Connie and Jessica tried to run. I think they got away—I heard some of'em talking about hunting them."

"What about you?" Phoebe asked as gently as she could. "How'd you wind up back in New York?"

The girl's shoulders hunched a little. "They got mad at Kevin cuz he let me go play in the park—I don't think they'd decided what to do with me yet. When they found out, though, they killed him, dumped him in Florida so the Vegas CSI wouldn't find him. Then one of'em took me back here—said it'd keep the cops from sniffing too far from home if two of us were found here."

"Two?" Phoebe asked cautiously.

She nodded, and Phoebe saw her dash the back of her hand across her eyes. "I think they killed my mom." She gave the door a brief, sideways glance. "Olivia says they're still looking though, so they may've hid her too well. Or maybe they didn't kill her and are keeping her here—I hope so," she whispered.

Phoebe hesitated, but she wasn't going to be the one who told the girl that her mother was dead. She would leave that to the detectives. "Regan, why won't you tell the detectives about any of this? I know you can't talk about the magic end of it, but you can tell them that your dad's boss took you to Vegas, and about—Kevin, did you say? They'll be able to find out stuff like that better than we would."

Regan nodded then said, "I want to—I really do. But don't you watch TV?"

"Fairly often," Phoebe said dryly.

"Well? People being asked questions are fine if they just don't say anything, but as soon as they answer one question they're answering them all. I don't want to let anything slip."

"I can understand that," Phoebe mused, thinking. "How about this. Write down what you are comfortable talking about, so it'll remind you not to talk about anything else? Since you know about that trick, you can avoid it."

She smiled at the girl brightly. Regan thought that over for a minute then nodded and found the pad of paper and the crayons she had gotten so she could draw and started to write. Phoebe, watching her, grinned. "You have better handwriting than I do."

"Gideon's a bear for proper handwriting," Regan said absently, concentrating on what she was doing.

"Gideon?" Phoebe repeated, startled. "The headmaster at the magic school?"

"Uh huh. I told you I went there, didn't I?"

"If you did, I missed it." Phoebe frowned, thinking about that. "You dad worked for demons and sent you to Magic School?"

Regan shrugged. "We're still witches. We just didn't tell any of them what he did for a living."

"Huh."


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: see previous chapters

Chapter 6

"Yaaaahhhhhh—ummph!"

Sirius Black lay on the hard floor, the wind knocked out of him, and caught his breath. Once he could breathe again, he lunged to his feet, spinning around. The room he was in was white tiled, with apparently no doors and no walls.

"Where am I?" he shouted.

"_Everywhere, nowhere, anywhere_."

The voice echoed around the room. Sirius spun, trying to find the source, but there was no one there but him.

"Who are you?" he shouted.

"_We are the conduit, the messengers, the envoys_," the echoing multi-voice replied.

Sirius continued circling. "Messengers for whom?"

"The Powers that Be."

That voice was human. Sirius spun and found himself staring at a young woman with blond hair standing a few feet away. "How—"

She smiled slightly. "They're the Powers. They can do anything they want."

Sirius eyed her suspiciously. "Are you one of the messengers?"

"Me? No." The woman smiled. "I'm your new partner. Or, at least, one of them."

"My what?" Sirius slowly calmed down a little bit, glancing around, and walked up to the young woman. "Who are you?"

"My name's Cordelia Chase," the woman said. "What's yours?"

"Wait…you're my partner but you don't know my name?"

"Powers work in mysterious ways," she said dryly. "I should know. I was one. Not fun. It was boring, actually."

Sirius blinked. "Sirius Black."

"Nice to meetcha." Cordelia smiled brightly.

"What is this place?" Sirius asked.

"This place?" Cordy glanced around. "Everywhere, anywhere. It's a place that you'll feel comfortable, at least reasonably so."

"I'd feel comfortable back with my godson," Sirius said forcefully.

Cordy gave him an odd look. "You don't realize it?"

"Realize what?"

"You're dead."

"No I'm not."

"Yeah you are."

"No I'm not."

"Yes, you are."

"I am not!"

"Hey! Former power here! You are dead!" Cordy put her hands on her hips, scowling at him. "You went through the veil and died."

Sirius stared at her.

"It was the last vision I had," Cordy explained. "I saw it all. I also saw Connor trying to kill people—really need to have a talk with that boy."

Sirius was staring at her. Cordy sighed.

"Look, Sirius. That veil—it was a curtain, between life and death. They let me in on that much when I had the vision. Unfortunately for you, it wasn't tuned into the right plane, otherwise the hellmouth might have spat you out."

"Tuned into the right plane?"

"Yeah. It's the veil between planes, dimensions. Death is just a different plane from life. Unfortunately for you, that was the one it was opened to at the time. Any other and you would still be alive. In a lot of pain, but alive." She frowned. "Or, at least you would have been for a while. Either that or really, really tired of shrimp."

Sirius was getting a headache, something he thought grumpily that he shouldn't have to feel now that he was supposed to be dead. Being dead was starting to feel a bit too much like being alive. "Am I a ghost now?"

"No," Cordy said firmly. "You are a construct of how you saw yourself in life."

At his confused look, she elaborated. "Here, there is no such thing as ghosts. If we were on Earth, you would be a ghost, of a sort."

"Of a sort?" Sirius repeated. "Ghosts are ghosts."

"Nope," Cordy said. "Ghosts are those people who refused to move on. You've moved on. Ergo, not a ghost."

"Then what would I be?" Sirius demanded.

"Um…not sure. Never tried it." Cordy smiled brightly. "We'll find out in a few."

"Few what?"

"Minutes, silly."

"Wait—we're going back to earth?" Sirius asked eagerly.

"Duh! Catch up, will you? We have a mission. We also have another couple people coming before we can—here we go."

"Huh?"

Sirius followed Cordy's gaze and saw another young woman with dark blond hair walking up. She had a soft smile on her face. "Hello."

"Hi," Cordy said. "Tara, right?"

Tara nodded, looking curious. "How did you know?"

"We followed the happenings in Sunnydale," Cordy explained. "So, Tara, this is Sirius. Sirius, Tara."

"Hello," Tara said with a smile.

"How do you do," Sirius said distractedly. "What is going on here?"

Tara looked at Cordelia curiously. "What is going on?"

"Um…I'm actually not completely positive," Cordy admitted. "But I'm sure we'll find out soon."

"This is just great," Sirius snorted. "I'm dead, with two Americans who don't have a clue about what's going on!"

"Hey!" Cordy said, miffed. "Just 'cause you're all British doesn't mean you get to make fun of us!"

"Besides, you're in the minority here."

"Exactly—wait, who are you?" Cordy looked at the woman who had spoken. She had short dark hair and an air of intensity about her.

"Prue Halliwell," the woman said. "Apparently I'm working with you. Not sure why."

"And so am I. God, can't a person stay dead?" someone else complained.

Cordelia and Tara turned at the familiar voice. "Anya?"

As the blond woman walked up, Sirius realized with a smirk that he was working with a group of very attractive young ladies. Maybe this wouldn't be so bad.

Anya Jenkins, formerly a demon, currently deceased, joined them. "Cordelia, when did you die?"

"About a month and a half ago. You?"

"End of last year. We fought the First," Anya said.

"Ah. I was in a coma," Cordelia said.

Anya looked at Tara. "Tara, it's—nice to see you again."

"You too," Tara said with a smile.

"Wait a sec—you three know each other I take it?" Prue asked.

They nodded.

Prue looked at Sirius. "Looks like we're the odd men out."

Sirius nodded in agreement. "Does anyone know why we've been brought together?"

"Big bad, badness gonna happen," Cordy replied. "Slayers can't handle it by themselves."

"Slayers?" Prue repeated. "The band?"

"Yes, they're going to kill the bad people with their guitars." Cordy rolled her eyes. "Not the band."

"What's a Slayer, then?" Prue asked.

Sirius cleared his throat. "The Slayer is a magical creature, imbued with super-strength and magic to hunt."

"Hunt what?" Prue asked.

"Demons," Cordy said, at the same time Sirius said, "Anything."

Prue raised an eyebrow. Cordy glared at Sirius. "Not anything."

"Did you graduate from Hogwarts?" Sirius asked loftily. "We learned about the Slayer. Not a nice creature."

"Um—excuse me?" Tara asked politely. "Have you ever met a Slayer?"

"No, and I wish to never have the pleasure," Sirius said grimly.

"Why not?" Prue asked.

"It's a killer," Sirius said. "Born to hunt and kill."

"Demons," Cordy finished. "Born to hunt and kill—demons."

"It doesn't distinguish," Sirius snorted. "Demon, wizard, Muggle—it's only thought is to kill."

Cordy, Tara, and Anya exchanged glances, then as one dissolved into giggles. Cordy snorted, "You really need to check your books, 'cause someone's been giving you bad information."

Sirius scowled. "I'll have you know that Hogwarts has the finest library in the wizarding world."

"And I'll have you know that I know the Slayer personally."

"Two of them, anyway," Anya said.

"There's another one?" Cordy looked at her. "Did Buffy die again?"

Prue and Sirius exchanged glances, both mouthing, _Again_?

"No," Anya said patiently. "But Willow did a spell that activated all of the Potentials. Or at least she was supposed to. I didn't exactly live to see the end of that little adventure."

"Willow did a spell?" Tara asked hesitantly.

"Yes." Anya looked at her. "A good spell. She got over that whole bad magic thing. She got over it after flaying Warren alive and going on a destructive rampage that nearly killed Giles and Buffy and destroyed my Magic Box, but she did get over it."

Tara looked at her, saying quietly, "Oh."

"What magic box?" Sirius asked suspiciously.

"It was my store."

"So this Willow is a witch?" Prue asked. The three ex-Scoobies nodded.

"Where did she go to school?" Sirius asked.

"School?" Prue, Cordy, and Tara chorused.

"Yes, school," Sirius said, looking at them strangely. "Hogwarts? Salem Academy?"

"There's a Salem Academy?" Cordy asked. "Man, they must have gotten over the Salem Witch Trials pretty quick."

"Actually, Salem Academy was set up before the trials."

"She didn't go to a witch school," Tara said. "We didn't even know there was a school for witchcraft."

"So where did she learn?" Sirius asked, appalled at the idea.

"By herself," Tara said. "And with me."

Sirius looked at Prue. "Are you a witch?"

"Yes," Prue said. "Self taught as well, my sisters and I. But we had the help of the Book of Shadows."

"The Book of Shadows?" Tara asked, startled. "I thought that was a myth."

"No," Prue said. "It's as real as—well, as magic."

"And you?" Sirius asked, looking at Cordy and Anya. "What about you two?"

"Nope," Cordy said as Anya shook her head. "I'm just a Seer, with some demon in me so I don't get killed by the visions."

"And I was a vengeance demon, turned human," Anya said.

Prue looked at them sharply. "You're demons?"

"Relax," Cordy said. "We're the good guys. And I wasn't born a demon. It was seriously just to keep the visions from killing me."

"Visions don't kill," Prue said. "My sister has visions."

"Good luck to her then," Cordy said.

"Okay," Tara said. "Let's get back on track, okay? There's a mission?"

"Yes," Cordy said, nodding. "But I don't know what it is."

"Bloody wonderful," Sirius muttered.

"Hey!"

"Enough arguing," Tara said. "We need to find out why we've been brought together. If it's a big bad, then is Buffy involved?"

Cordy got a faraway look in her eyes for a second then said, "Buffy's involved, the wizarding world's involved, pretty much the entire world is at stake—again."

"Another apocalypse?" Anya groaned.

"Not exactly."

Everyone turned to face the person who had spoken. Prue frowned. "Leo?"

"Leo?"

"Who's Leo?"

"That would be Leo, I assume."

Leo Wyatt smiled. "Yeah, I'm Leo. I'm a whitelighter, and Elder actually."

Prue started; the others looked nonplussed. Prue said, "Congratulations—I think. How'd Piper take it?"

"She wasn't exactly ecstatic," Leo said ruefully. "Especially with Wyatt around."

"Wyatt?" Prue asked. "Who—oh my God! You and Piper had—"

"A son," Leo confirmed with a smile.

"Congratulations," Prue said excitedly.

"Thanks," Leo said. "Anyway, back to business." He looked at each of the five people there. "Cordelia Chase, Sirius Black, Tara Maclay, and Anyanka—and Prue—you've all been called to help save the world."

"Again," Cordelia said. "You know, this song and dance is starting to get a little old."

Sirius stared at her in shock.

"I agree," Anya said. Tara nodded.

"Are you three insane?" Sirius demanded. "The world's going to end and you're making jokes?"

"Actually, I kinda agree with them," Prue said. "Leo, what's up?"

"Is it another apocalypse?" Anya asked, ignoring Sirius's squeaked, "Another?" as she continued. "Because that's getting so overrated."

"Not exactly the way you would think of an apocalypse," Leo said. "No demons sucking the Earth into a hell dimension."

"Oh. Well then, what's the big?" Cordy asked.

"And what's a whitelighter?" Tara asked.

"Cordelia's question first," Leo said. "There are three bad guys who want to take over the world. If they get together, they can succeed. We can't let that happen."

"So who are they? Is Angelus back?"

"Angelus!"

"No," Leo frowned. "And that was completely unexpected."

"You're telling me," Cordy sniffed. "So who is it?"

Sirius recovered sufficiently from his shock to ask, "Is one of them Voldemort?"

"Yes," Leo said.

"Voldemort?" Cordy asked. "Lemme guess. Wanna rule demon?"

"Wizard," Sirius corrected. "Currently trying to take over the wizarding world and kill all the muggles."

"What's a muggle?" Prue asked.

"Nonmagical person."

"Who are the others?" Tara asked.

"A Goa'uld named Morrigan," Leo said. "Irish goddess of war and death. And a powerful demon named Loknar."

"Fun," Tara murmured.

"What's a Goa'uld?" Prue asked.

"That would be why Dr. Janet Frasier is joining your team," Leo said. "And the final member is—well, he's here because he insisted."

He stepped aside and revealed the final two members of the team of dead people—a woman with brown hair in what looked like a doctor's garb and a young man with black hair dressed in robes. Sirius couldn't move for a split second, in shock, then he leapt towards the man, shouting joyously, "Prongs!"

The young man grinned and pulled Sirius into a hug. "Padfoot, you wanker. What are you doing here?

"Haven't the foggiest," Sirius said.

"Everyone, meet James Potter," Leo said. "A wizard."

"Go figure," Cordy murmured to Tara.

Dr. Janet Frasier looked around at everyone, then at Leo. "Um...what exactly am I doing here?"

"You died," Anya said helpfully.

Frasier glanced at her, then looked at Leo. "I know that part. What am I doing _here_?"

"There's a Goa'uld ready to terrorize Earth," Leo explained.

"Oh. There's always a Goa'uld ready to terrorize Earth," Frasier pointed out.

"This one's different. If she and Voldemort get together—"

"The Earth's screwed?" Cordy offered.

"Pretty much."

"Oh." Dr. Frasier considered this, then asked, "Who's Voldemort?"

"Wizard that went bad," Sirius said.

Frasier's eyebrows went up. "Wizard?"

"You're walking around after you're dead and you find wizards surprising?" Cordy asked.

Frasier looked at her for a minute then relaxed and admitted, "True."

Leo cleared his throat. "Now that everyone's introduced, I'd like to get around to why you're here."

"Finally, some answers," Sirius muttered, but he sounded less annoyed now.

"You're going to help save the world," Leo announced impressively.

Anya, Tara, and Cordy blinked. "Is that is?"

Frasier glanced at them. Sirius and James exchanged glances. James observed, "You're awfully blasé about this."

"We've done it too many times," Tara explained.

"You can say that again," Cordy muttered.

"We've—"

"But don't." Cordy looked at Tara. "Please."

Tara smiled.

Leo cleared his throat again, a little disappointed his dire announcement hadn't gotten more of a reaction. He thought the Charmed Ones were the only ones who could be that used to it. "Anyway—"

"So how are we saving the world?" Cordy asked. "I mean, will we get superpowers?"

"No."

"Be able to talk to Buffy?"

"Not really."

"Will there be any interaction at all?" Cordy demanded.

"Not at first."

"Leo, why not just make us whitelighters?" Prue asked.

"Because you were a Charmed One, they're wizards, she's a witch, and they're demons," Leo said. "Magical beings don't become whitelighters."

"Hey—ex-demon!" Anya said indignantly.

"And partial demon!" Cordy added.

"Either way," Leo said. "You can't. But you're not ghosts either."

"Told you," Cordy told Sirius.

"Which means that at first you won't be seen, you'll be incorporeal so you can't touch anything, and you won't be heard."

"Well gee," Cordy said sarcastically. "I can see exactly how we're going to save the world."

"You'll learn how eventually," Leo said patiently.

Cordy frowned, something tickling the back of her mind—this scenario sounded familiar. She continued to try and remember as Sirius asked, "Will we have our magic?"

"Sort of," Leo said. "Not right away—"

"Oh! Oh, oh oh!" Cordy exclaimed, remembering. "It's like astral projection? It took me a few minutes to figure stuff out then too—but then I possessed Angel and—what?"

"It's something like astral projection, yes," Leo said as everyone else gave her strange looks. "I'm not even exactly sure about how this works—I'm working with Oma. She's the brains here."

"Oma? Who's Oma?"

Frasier looked at Leo, startled. "The Ancient? The one Dr. Jackson knew?"

"The very same," Leo agreed. "The Ancients are part of the pantheon that makes up the Powers, though they make up the part of the pantheon that doesn't have hardly any involvement with human affairs."

"Great guys," Cordy said dryly, rolling her eyes. "So. Let's go save the world."


End file.
